


Academic Review

by Milfomancer



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, WARNING Bad cooking and medical euphemisms, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milfomancer/pseuds/Milfomancer
Summary: Can love bloom amid coffee induced hallucinations?
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji, Trafalgar D. Water Law/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Academic Review

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRecorder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRecorder/gifts).



Trafalgar had heard the rumors. Some blond asshole was now working at the library’s coffee shop, and if you were a pretty girl, he’d make you anything you wanted. They said he was handsome and funny and witty and “just here to do some gen-eds before heading off to _culinary school_ ”.

So of course, he had to go see for himself. Just to see what his competition was. He made his way to the library and sat in a corner with a plain black coffee.

Waiting.

Watching.

After three days of observation taking in several dozen times his normal amount of caffeine (which considering his wrecked sleep schedule, was approaching near-lethal doses), Trafalgar W. D. Law (soon-to-be) MD came to a horrific conclusion; One he feared he would come to.

The coffee shop guy _was hot_.

On day four, Law was speed reading through one of his old textbooks. He wasn’t trying to speed read, but he kept going up to grab more and more coffee to watch the boy’s slender hands run over the assortment of pumps and shakers as he made the med student’s increasingly complicated (and expensive) drinks. Law buried his head in his book, his imagination finally getting the better of him.

“Hey handsome,” the would-be chef said. He pulled Law into a deep and passionate kiss in front of everyone in the shop. “Why are you still wearing these stuffy clothes. Don’t you know this is a topless library?” As he said that, the barista pulled both his and Law’s shirts off. He somehow managed to avoid spoiling the blond swoop he had across his face, covering one half of his face.

Law marveled at the topless man before him. He had a 14 pack, and he was too distracted by how hot it was to think about how it was physiologically impossible. Somehow, every hair on his chest curled the exact same way, mimicking his curly eyebrow perfectly. Law placed a trembling hand on his rock hard pecs and traced patterns across it.

“Oh, Trafalgar… Trafalgar…! Trafalgar!”

Law was aroused from his arousal at the sound of his name being called progressively more and more annoyed. He twitched up and walked to the counter where his name was being called. It was actually the blond barista this time.

Law sneaked a glance at his name tag. Sanji. No last name. Well, he assumed he HAD a last name, but he had taped over it. Law realized he was still holding he previous coffee in his shaking hand.

Sanji raised a curly eyebrow, saying, “You Trafalgar? Here. I made it decaff, because I can feel you jumping your leg up and down from over here.” He noticed the customer had not taken his drink, or taken his eyes off of him. Or said anything. Or blinked, for that matter. “You, uhh, you alright man? You pull an all nighter or something?”

The cook reached across the counter and slapped Law across the face. He jumped over and planted his plump lips over his own, pulling him closer by pulling his lapel.

“You’ve been bad, staying up late and wasting all your money on coffee, Traffy.”

“Oh, Sanji… I’ve been a _bad boy_.”

“You certainly have. And now I have to give you a check up, because you are sooo _hot_ ,” Sanji growled as he ripped all of Law’s clothes off in one motion.

“Oh, _yes_ , let me saute in your smoldering good looks, Sanji,” Law mewled back, already becoming hard at the sight of the blond stripping.

“Just relax and let me stimulate your trigeminal nerve,” Sanji said, seductively massaging Law’s face, checking for responses from his opthalmic, maxillary, and mandibular nerves. “Wow, such a good boy. Responsive in all four quadrants.” He stared deeply into Law’s definitely-not-jaundice-yellow eyes before licking his pretty pink lips.

He moaned as Sanji reached down and grabbed his throbbing meat and two veg. He shivered as the chef whispered in his ear, “Bend over and cough, Mr. Law.”

Law did as he was ordered, spreading his legs as he did. He grabbed a jar of dry creamer, and snorted a small handful, causing him to hack and cough uncontrollably.

“Very good, my patient,” Sanji said through a mask, donning blue medical gloves. His throbbing erection jutted out between the buttons on his white lab coat. “Now, I need you to name all the bones in the hand, Mr Law.” Coating his hand in a glug of cold coffee, he slipped a finger into Law’s external ani externus.

“Oooooooooooooooo,” he moaned, “the distal phalanx,” he paused as Sanji contiued his examination of his cave of wonders, “m-middle phalanx… proximal phalanx…” Law threw his head back in pleasure as he continued to name bones of the hand. “Aaaa!!! The metacarpus! The hamate! The carpus! Th-”

Sanji reached out and socked Law in the jaw. “I said of the HAND, not of the WRIST, you gibbering mongoloid.”

Back in reality, Law had become so tense at seeing and speaking to the cute blond that, combined with the absurd amount of caffiene he had consumed, tensed up so much he simply passed out right at Sanji’s feet.

He woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. The room smelled like garlic, curry powder, cigarettes and hair gel. The studio apartment was a mess, with a single queen mattress on the floor in the corner of the room. Frying pans, cookbooks, weight sets and various oils littered the area.

“Oi, med school kid. You alive?” The cook was sitting in the sill of an open window, and showing why half the bed smelled like tobacco.

“Smoking is bad for you,” Law said, still groggy.

“So is downing literal gallons of coffee for half a week,” Sanji retorted as he extinguished his stogie and walked over. He placed a single fingertip on Law’s forehead.

“...What are you doing?”

“I’m checking your temperature.” After a second he announced, “98.7. You’re fine”

“No way that works,” Law said, stunned.

Sanji laughed, “Nah, it doesn’t. I just saw some old bag do it once and always wanted to try it. I took your temperature while you were asleep. I ain’t no fancy doctor but you probably just needed some shut eye.”

Law put his head back down on the pillow and inhaled. A few seconds later he felt Sanji straddling him. His well endowed member flopped across his chest, the smell of the bed hitting him more intensely.

“Do you know what my nickname is? They call me… the Head Chef.” He bucked forward, popping his engorged pecker into Law’s open mouth.

“What a luxurious mouthfeel,” Law tried to say, but it came out mostly as gargles and slurps. Sanji seemed to understand the sentiment as he praised the boy.

“You’re doing such a phenomenal job. I can tell you have a healthy epiglottis and uvula.”

Law pulled the plump boy-moistener out of his maw and stared up at his partner.

“You feel so hot in my mouth, Head Chef…”

“Then maybe I should take your temperature more… accurately. _Rectally_.”  
“Oh _yes_ , Sanji. Please, check my bussy’s temperature scramble my beggs.”

“Beggs?”  
“Boy eggs.”

“Okay.”

Sanji conjured a bottle of olive oil and covered Law’s entire bottom half of his body in it.

“Patient is sufficiently lubricated.”

“Yes, I’m your naughty extra virgin olive, stuff me with your pimento cock, Mr. Cook.”

Sanji turned Law over, slapping out an impromptu rendition of “Wouldn’t it be nice?” on his bubble butt like a bongo. Two and a half minutes later, Sanji was finished paying tribute to Brian Wilson. He slowly slid his pepperoni roll into Law’s corndog receptacle.

Law mewled like a med student being cockblasted by a culinary arts student. Sanji proceeded to slam his personal meat thermometer in and out of Law, continuously sliding the helmet of his spunk soldier across his hidden pleasure mushroom.

“You know, regular release of your lust are important for a healthy prostate, and you should get regular check ups for it.”

“God, it’s so hot when you recite medical knowledge easily obtainable through a google search to me. So hot, like, as hot as 350 degrees Fahrenheit, the perfect temperature for the Maillard reaction to occur.”

Sanji’s thrusts sped up, bringing the heat in Law’s ass to a bare simmer, beginning to caramelize his beggs. With a loud grunt, he slammed the entire length of his man-guine into Law as he came to fruition, his salty cream being piped out of him like so much frosting in a pipette bag.

Sanji laid his head on Law’s chest, asking, “Law, can you get up?”

“Yeah, of course, anything for you Sanji.”

“Good,” Sanji said, fully clothed and still sitting on the window sill, “because my boyfriend will be home soon and the Marimo is gonna be weirded out if I have another guy sleeping in our bed.” With that, Law found himself outside as the door slammed behind him, his dick still hard and his dreams shattered.

“Well,” he said to himself, “At least I can still get fucked by my student debt.”


End file.
